by Reetika Vazirani

    I took the train from Patiala，

    left the girls with Ayah， and lied，

    I'm with Faye and Daisy.

    Had to say what he'd approve of.

    Go then， Kiran said， crushing large rupees in my hand.

    Have I been here a week？

    I've slept so long I can't remember

    who was with me last night in bed，

    that figure leaning against the door？

    Did he leave me this gold bangle？

    I can feel its heft around my wrist，

    knobs and crests¹， a design

    from the high Mogul period of Aurangazeb.

    I have come to Delhi

    to remember our ancient past —— so little， a bangle，

    what else？

    When it slid over my hand，

    I opened myself like a book and you hear its private pulsing.

    In the quiet he said， Put your hand here

    to save your place.

    I put my hand there， and he pressed it.

    He sat with me a minute， and he went away，

    left something to hinge me in the wind of myself，

    to calm my legs.

    Empire is large land and I can't touch it.

    A smile is a root my mother said don't bother.

    I am small.  I married a dark talent

    from a small world.

    Until he asked me to drop my shawl

    and slid his finger on my shoulder，

    let me taste our leisure.

    I read him.  I peeled back lies.

    I had harped² on grandeur³，

    but the Taj Mahal and Rome are a fantasy.

    What's left is my darkness. He spoke⁴ to me

    of skin and I touched it.

    Until he asked me to drop my shawl

    and slid his finger on my shoulder，

    let me taste our leisure.

    It required my defiance⁵ of the small world.

    He asked would you， and I said I would.

    I read him.  I drank up my history and peeled back the glossy⁶ lies.

    I had harped on former grandeur，

    but the Taj Mahal and Rome are a fantasy.

    What's left is my darkness. He spoke to me simply of skin and I touched it.

    For so many years I kept my mantra：

    they are great and I am small.

    I've slept.  I've tasted my own milk.

    I'll raise my girls， then I'll be back to taste the morning.

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